Anemone HAITUS
by Janet Doe
Summary: Harry Potter is returning to Hogwarts School of Wizardary and Witchcraft, but this year he's going back less as Harry Potter and more as Anemone, a bisexual drug-addict who can't seem to remember why Hogwarts was so great. Sounds cheesy, it sort of is...
1. Prologue: Anemone

Disclaimer: I do not own any share of the Harry Potter series, or am I affiliated with any copyrights of the Harry Potter series or any merchandise which spawned from said series.

Warnings: Harsh Language, Drug Abuse, Same-Sex Relationships, Violence, any other warnings will be added as necessary. 

Author Note: Third attempt to begin this series; this is the prologue; thanks for reading.

.:Anemone:.

_Anemone are perennial herbs. The leaves grow from the base and can be simple, compound, or attached with a leaf stalk. Terminal inflorescence with two to nine flowered cymes or umbels, or solitary flowers that, depending on the species, can be up to 60 centimeters tall. The flowers are bisexual and radically symmetric. The sepals are not persistent in fruit, and can be white, purple, blue, green, yellow, pink, or red._

_The meaning of the Anemone flower is "forsaken" and also "dying hope"._

_---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Harry James Potter refolded a black pair of jeans for the third time; his green eyes carefully making sure the seams were even as he chewed at his bottom lip in concentration, intent on folding the jeans perfectly, just as he had his other clothing articles. He was packing for his return to Hogwarts, an event which had been highly anticipated at the beginning of the summer, but had lost its gleam more towards the middle. He left the next day.

_Tap, tap, tap._

The noise came from the direction of Harry's window, he spun around, jeans still in hand. His green eyes were wide and oddly bright as a grin lit up his much changed features. At the window were three faces, pressed in close and all frozen in strange faces. Two males, and one female, all older than Harry. He sauntered over and flung open the window, allowing them entrance.

"Are you done packing?" The female asked, a young woman named Gwyneth who they had christened Gwennie in attempt to lessen the nose-wrinkling effect saying her name had. She stood taller than Harry, just as skinny, though. Her hair long and tangled from the wind, her nose was pointed and her face incredibly angular; impish.

"Geez, you sure don't have much stuff." The shorter of the males commented, a boy named Joey who had been the one to 'discover' Harry. He stood around 5' 11" and was rather round in all areas, though the weight looked good on him. His skin was dark and spotted with the occasional tattoo, he wore a frown as he studied Harry's full suitcase.

"So… you're really leaving?" Asked the oldest and tallest of the trio, Kanyon, as he studied his feet with a pitiful expression on his face. He stood at 6' 3" and wore blue jeans, worn in the knees, and a grey t-shirt which promoted a band he'd started a couple years ago, his face was dotted with metal bars but he was tattoo free, at least, in his visible areas.

"Well, I've gone every year for a while now… I don't really have a choice." Harry said and smiled at the three friends he'd gained over the summer, the three bad influences. "But no worries, you guys won't miss me too much!" He laughed loudly and quivered from the inside out.

"Anemone; don't say that!" Gwennie wailed and through her whole 90 lbs. into Harry, his face flushing with emotions. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with you…" she sniffled a little and lowered herself onto Harry's perfectly made bed. "Joey and Kanyon think so, too." She sniffled again and wiped her nose on the hem of her sleeve.

"He knows that, Gwen, he might be dumb but he's not that dumb!" Joey laughed and grinned at Harry. "Besides, he'll be back."

"Of course I'll be back, in fact, in a few years I won't ever have to go back." Harry said proudly and settled the jeans into the suitcase, which was stacked perfectly. "Then I'll be around so much, you'll get sick of me." He punched Joey in the shoulder playfully.

The group of adolescence settled around the room, in their usual places, chit chatting about the latest; who got arrested for what, who slept with who, who remembers sleeping with who, whose pregnant, whose sick, whose dead; the usual stuff. At the end of their talk, it was late into the night and they'd smoked their way through three packages of cigarettes, and two packs of a more creative sort of smoke.

"Well, Anemone, I guess I had better get going. I've got a hot date, you know." Gwennie stood up, stretched, and gave Harry a peck on the cheek. "I'm going to call and write lots, I promise." She climbed down the room and shimming onto the lawn, down a drain-pipe.

Joey stood up next. "I'm her hot date, so I'd better be going, too. But, man, I'm gonna miss you. If you don't call me, or write me, or whatever, I swear to god I'll fuck you up." He gave Harry a one armed hug and bounded down the roof, taking numerous shingles with him.

Kanyon stood and slunk over to wear Harry was nestled on the floor, leaning against his bed. He slumped next to his younger friend and sighed. He lit up the last of the cigarettes and inhaled deeply. "Anemone…" he began and then shook his head. "Harry, are you alright?"

Harry nodded slowly, the effects of what he'd done early wearing off slowly. "Yeah, I mean, it sucks to be leaving again but—"

"No. I mean… are you _okay_? Before you got mixed up with us, and the stuff we do, you were a pretty screwy kid already. I mean, well, when Joey found you, you were attempting suicide, so you weren't okay then. And after that you mixed up in some pretty hard-core drugs, and after… um, after Danny… um, you know." He cleared his throat uncomfortably and wiggled away the awkwardness. "After that happened, you sort of went off the deep-end. I just wanna make sure you're not gonna leave us and go crazy?"

"Kanyon, I've got some really cool friends up at the Detention Facility, and so I'll be fine." Harry said confidently. "And I'll try not to wig, 'kay?"

Kanyon nodded and stood up, pulling Harry with him. "Well, it's been a great summer. I'm sure the next one with be even better." He walked to the window, still holding onto Harry, when the wind blew gently on their bare arms, he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and then kissed him sweetly, achingly sweetly, and pulled away with misty eyes. "Anemone, I'm gonna miss you so much."

"Yeah, me, too." Harry replied and watched as his boyfriend skidded quietly down his roof and walked down the street to go join a party. Any party, Harry knew. It wouldn't make a difference to his crowd, as long as there were drugs, loud music, and booze, it was fine.


	2. Anemone: Chapter One

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this, nor do I own any share of the Harry Potter franchise.

Warnings: Strong Language, Abuse, Drug Use, Underage Drinking.

Author's Note: So far I've only gotten reviews from a few people, but that's more than enough for me! I'm really happy people are reading my work and approving; so here's the first chapter! =)

**

Chapter One

**

Ronald Weasley did not worry easily, or rather; his worries were not easily aroused. Only if something quite obviously worrisome took place, such as someone vomiting blood, or gushing blood, or the appearance of anything with multiple legs that scuttled and had more than two eyes, were his worries fanned. That is to say; someone looking tired or ill didn't worry him, not like it did Hermione. But when Ron laid eyes on Harry, the reaction was the same as looking at his father gushing blood, vomiting blood, and sprouting eyes and legs while scuttling across the floor… to put it more simply; he was worried.

"Um, Harry?" Ron slid the door of the train compartment shut and stared at his friend, who was slumped over, staring out the window with tired eyes. "Harry?" He repeated, craning his neck to get a better view of his friends face. "Harry?" He said with much more volume and nudged Harry in the shin violently.

The reaction was instant: Harry bolted from his slumped position, turned his vibrant green glare upon his red-haired friend and hissed. "What the fuck was that for?" He demanded.

Ron gaped. He'd known Harry for five years, and never once had Harry sworn at him; he'd yelled some, but never sworn with such vulgarity. He stepped back and studied his best mate slowly. Harry was taller, gangly, not bad looking; he had that bad-boy look about him that girls simply adored. But he looked tired, angry, too skinny, and… worn.

"Who pissed in your cheerios?" Ron demanded and tossed his luggage on the designated rack, his face red and scrunched up. _To think; I was nearly worried about the twit. Turns out he's just being a pissy git like always._ Ron thought unhappily and slumped down into his seat, determined to avoid Harry's gaze.

"Shit." Harry whispered and Ron heard a shifting noise as his friend leaned back and closed his eyes. "Ron," he said more loudly, "Ron, I'm sorry. You just scared me is all. I'm really sorry." He said slowly without opening his eyes.

Ron's eyes slid back over to his friend and as he took in the sight of a withered Harry his anger melted. He hadn't talked to the boy all summer, after all. He knew that Harry had been completely cut off from the world he loved for the whole three months away from Hogwarts; when he thought about it like that, Ron figured that Harry's little outburst was actually less than he deserved. With an inward shrug, Ron's face lit up with a smile and his happiness at being reunited with the Wizarding World's Savior overflowed.

"It's alright, mate. I suppose I deserved it, anyway. It was real awful of me not to write you all summer, but Dumbledore told everyone that we weren't supposed to." Ron winced in apology. "But when Hermione gets here we'll tell you all about it, alright?" He blushed at the mention of Hermione, his eyes sliding off to the side to avoid Harry's vivid green ones.

"Oh…" Harry went quiet for a moment as he thought back to the beginning of the summer; before he'd met Gwennie, Joey, and Kanyon. Thinking hard he recalled that was his reason for attempting suicide; he'd thought everyone was simply glad to be rid of him. But he was pretty over that now. "Don't even worry about it, Ron." He waved his hand in the air dismissively and nearly missed Ron's offended expression. "Well, I mean, it's not that I didn't miss you guys. I did! I missed you guys an awful lot, but I was really, um, tied up over the summer." He tied a knot in the air, pulling it tight with his hands.

"Yeah? Were the Dursleys on your back a lot?" Ron asked in a sad tone and slid to the side as the Hogwarts Express gave a little jolt.

"Well, they didn't make me clean or anything; they got sort of violent, though." He shrugged, his throat going a little dry. "But, other than that they made sure I was out of the house mostly; didn't bug me a bit."

"Violent? They beat you?!" Ron gasped.

Harry gave a little shrug. "Well, I mean, not really. But a little, I guess." He suppressed a shudder when he recalled the many times Uncle Vernon's huge mass had blocked all escapes, seeming to fill the entire room, pushing Harry against a wall, making the air thin and scarce. "Well, no, I mean…" he stuttered. "Oh, hey, where's Hermione, anyway?"

"Oh, I'll bet she's going and flashing her Prefects badge around, making sure all the little Firsties know where to find her." He chuckled. "When we got the letters she nearly fainted, you should've heard her… squealing 'Oh! Oh, Ron! Look at what I got! Oh, and Ron, look at what you've got!'" He mimicked Hermione nearly perfectly and rolled his eyes.

"Really, Ron!" Said a high pitched, offended voice. "I do not sound like that!"

In the doorway stood a bushy-haired, blushing Hermione Granger. She looked much the same, perhaps a little more womanly than the past years, growing as all girls do, but she still held herself as though she were better than everyone else, and now she stood at an angle, almost unconsciously, so that her badge gleamed just a little.

"Er—hello, Hermione." Ron said and looked down, ashamed. "Didn't hear you come in."

"No, you wouldn't have, not over your dreadful mimicking voice." She snapped and then slid shut the door with more force than necessary and shooed Ron away from the window, so she might sit across from Harry, and at first, she said nothing. "Oh, Harry, what happened to you over the summer?"

Hermione's detail oriented eyes surveyed Harry closely, excruciatingly closely. She took in his incredibly thin stature, his improved height, his lack of muscle tone, the way his hands shook. She frowned and leaned forward, pressing her warm hands to his forehead to find it cool and sticky with sweat. She then reached down and took his hand gingerly, holding her fingers at his wrist as she stared at the face of her wrist watch.

"Nothing much, it was good." He said in a half lie, half truth. It was true that it had been a good summer; it had been a smashing summer, in fact, the best he could remember. However, a lot had happened. A lot of stuff he couldn't remember, a lot of stuff he did remember, and a lot of stuff he wished he couldn't remember. But nonetheless; a lot of stuff. "How was yours?" He asked around a clogged throat.

She pulled back with a frown still on her face; what was wrong with Harry? Cold sweat, high heart rate, his chest was laboring with breath. She thought for a moment and decided it was simply stress. Harry was always under a lot of stress, after all. Hermione smiled to herself and Harry, took a deep breath, and then relaxed.

"Oh, it was alright. We did miss you terribly, though." She smiled as though speaking to a small child. "Oh! Did Ron tell you about our becoming Prefects? I am just so excited! You won't believe the privileges we get—"

Harry nodded and listened as Hermione babbled on and on, Ron laughing and Harry occasionally forcing a laugh. Somehow, it just wasn't the same. Last year, on the train, he remembered laughing so hard he thought his gut would have burst, but this just wasn't his idea of fun. The realization that Hogwarts was going to be a nuisance this year hit Harry like a car. He felt breathless.

**

Harry flopped down onto the bed gratefully, loving the way the soft cotton underneath rippled against his sudden weight. During the summer he'd usually bunked on a couch, a lumpy couch most often, sometimes a floor or perhaps a rooftop. Very rarely he'd bunk on his own mattress, the rock-filled one the Dursleys had provided him with, and sometimes he'd crash with Kanyon. Well, actually, he always crashed with Kanyon, be it on a couch or a floor, but it was to say that Harry sometimes stayed with Kanyon, though his mattress wasn't the most comfortable, either. But none of them even came close to being as soft and comfortable as the mattress he now lay upon.

_Ah, so this is what I missed about this damn school._ Harry's thoughts murmured in sleepy echoes through his mind as he cuddled close to a very full pillow, he was vaguely aware of telling Ron he wasn't hungry as his eyelids drifted close. In the back of his mind there was a voice reminding him that he was going to miss the feast in the Great Hall, but that voice was shut by a much louder voice, the voice of Anemone, and so Harry fell asleep. Deep asleep; the sort of sleep only attainable after coming down from a very high up high.

**

"Ron? Where's Harry?" Hermione asked as Ron settled in beside her, eyeing the platters piled high with chicken and other tender meats. "Isn't he coming down to eat?" She vividly remembered his state of emaciation.

"Nope." Ron shook his head as he reached for the lemon seasoned chicken. "We got up there and put our lugguage away, and then he lay down and fell asleep nearly right after. He said he wasn't hungry, anyway."

"Oh, well… do you think we should try to wake him? I mean…" she flushed a little bit as she spread thick butter atop a steamy roll. "Well, Ron, did you see how _skinny_ he was?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Ron, he was twig thick!" She demonstrated by making a tiny space between her thumb and four finger.

Ron's face fell and he slowed in his piling of nutrition as he digested her words. "You, um, you noticed, too?" He said slowly and moved his hands under the table, whipping them on his robes.

Hermione snorted. "It's kind of hard not to notice, Ronald." She snapped. "God, it's only the first day and already I'm worried sick about him." She muttered and bit into her roll angrily."Well, what do you think is wrong with him?"

Ron shrugged and stared at his food. "I'm not sure. But, you know, when I walked into the compartment he was sort of asleep… only awake. Day-dreaming, I guess. But anyway, I was trying to talk to him and he wasn't listening, so I kicked him in the shin, just lightly, and he… well, he was really mad." Ron supplied carefully and then frantically began to cut his meet, suddenly ravenous.

"What did he say?" Hermione asked, knowing Harry had a slight temper, but nothing that should make Ron so flustered.

"He bolted up and said 'What the fuck was that for?!' real loud." Ron said and shot a glare at a First Year whose eyes bulged at Ron's colourful language.

Hermione grimaced. "Maybe it just hurt him more than you thought it would. But we're probably just worrying over nothing, he's probably just feeling stressed and… alone. We did leave him be all summer, I'm surprised his in such good temperament, actually."

"Yeah," Ron brightened, "I'll bet that's it! So, you think he'll get over it?"

Hermione smiled just a little bit and gave a little nod. "Mm-hm. We'll just have to make sure he gets enough to eat, and spend a lot of time with him." She nodded again, more to herself.

**

_Harry was very, very careful as he slunk across the roof, his eyes fogged with drugs, alcohol, and adrenaline. He breathed heavily, coated in sweat from dancing and being crushed in with so many other people. The night air did nothing to cool him or his nerves as he got closer and closer to his window, praying to God that Uncle Vernon had simply forgotten about him._

_The window was opened just enough for Harry to slide his thin fingers underneath and heft it quietly up, just how he had left it. He climbed in with a careful sort grace, unable to see in the dark of his bedroom, but not feeling any other presence in the room. He didn't notice the hulking shadow under it had its hand around Harry's thin neck, thick and disgusting._

"_Damn you, you ungrateful little brat!" Uncle Vernon panted as he thrust Harry back and forth. "Where the hell have you been?" He hissed and pulled Harry close, close enough that he was able to smell the scent of wrong-doing the boy was drenched in. "Oh," he sneered, "Oh, is that the game we're playing? Pity poor Potter, is it? Poor little Potter with his abusive Uncle has to go get high just to make it through another day. Is that it, Potter?" Vernon shook the boy violently, again and again until something popped._

_Harry could say nothing as he flew back and forth, hating the feel of his Uncle's hands on him. He was terrified; he had to admit, of the hulking human being. Uncle Vernon had been experimenting with new types of punishment lately, and Harry hated them more than anything else in the world. His Uncle had burned him, cut him, even lashed him and sometimes, sometimes when that was happening, he'd get a strange look on his face, a look Harry didn't like at all. But when something in Harry popped, the look on Vernon's face was something worse than Satan's fondest dream._

"_Oh god." Harry mumbled as he dropped limply to the ground, vaguely aware that there was a painful sensation in his left arm, but not his right. He groaned and hid his face from his Uncle, who continued to loom over the confused Potter._

"_Oh, poor pity Potter." Vernon mocked and turned to the door, throwing Harry a disgusted look over his shoulder. "That should teach you to stay out all night, Potter." He sneered and slammed the door, leaving Harry on the floor, unable to move the whole of his left arm._

_**_

Harry leapt up with a gasp, his robes clinging to his sweat coated body as he tried to ward the memory away. He grasped his left arm, it was fine now, but then it hadn't been. He had never been quite sure what Uncle Vernon had done to it, but Harry had managed to crawl back to a nearly sober Kanyon who had done his best to fix it, though it still hurt like hell every once in a while.

"Harry, mate, are you alright?" Ron asked from across the room and Harry's green eyes moved over to stare at his red-haired friend. "You've been having nightmares since I got back last night. And you've slept past breakfast." He frowned.

Harry glared at his friend, not liking the idea of someone being on the outside world, looking in on Harry's many memories. "I'm not hungry, anyway." He mumbled and crawled from the bed, need making his hands shaky. "Um… when do we get our class schedules?" He asked and carefully peeled off his robes, not wanting Ron to notice the many scars and marks he'd gained over the summer.

"Lunch, I think. But classes don't start until tomorrow." He studied his dark-haired friend.

"Um, yeah, okay." He said slowly, pain bursting in the back of his mind. "You know, I'm going to go for a walk, I'm not feeling so well." Harry said quickly and rummaged through his suitcase for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that actually belonged to Kanyon.

"Yeah… okay. But you better be at lunch, Hermione's been worried about you, mate." Ron supplied and watched as Harry made his way out of the dorms, fumbling with a lighter he thought Ron couldn't see.


	3. Anemone: Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this, nor do I own any share of the Harry Potter franchise.

Warnings: Nicotine Use, Illegal Drug Use, Implied Same-Sex Relationships, Implied Student-Teacher Relationships, Slight Ron Bashing, Slight Hermione Bashing, Possible OOC-Ness, and OCs.

Author's Note: Okay, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I worked hard. I understand that Harry didn't know Luna until book blah-blah-blah but, as I stated in the summary, this fiction is not compliant with the fourth book….

Chapter Two

**

Harry frowned up at the sun and pulled a single cigarette from a pack he suspected would soon be dwindling. As he lit up, he supposed that he should write to Gwennie soon, so they could establish a steady flow of supplies, not only that but he didn't doubt Joey in his threat to fuck Harry up if he didn't write to them at least twice a week, maybe more, definitely not less, though. He smiled at the thought of his friends, friends he considered dearer than Ron and/or Hermione at this point.

"Harry? Harry, is that you?" A dreamy voice asked from behind him.

Harry whirled lazily to find Luna Lovegood staring at him with her big, foggy eyes, delighted at the prospect of meeting him. He looked around and found that he'd wondered into the Forbidden Forest, simply out of habit. Of course he would run into Luna in a place like this, she was probably feeding some dreadful mock of a beast. Perhaps a bunny sprite of death or something of the sort; an animal he might once have found interesting.

"Harry, what are you doing out here?" Luna asked and smiled fondly at him, stepping forward to wrap her thin arms around his neck. "I didn't see you at the Welcoming Feast last night, I was missing you." She told him and stepped away, whirling to face the center of the forest.

"I, um, just came out from some fresh air." He said slowly and took one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it in the dirt and stomping it out discreetly. "I fell asleep and didn't make it to the feast, sorry." He said and cleared his throat in a noncommittal way.

"Oh, and you slept through breakfast, too?" Luna asked in her sing-song voice, her hand raised to the air.

"Yeah."

"Are you hungry, then? I've brought some food." She pulled a pear from a pack she kept at her side and handed to him, her pale hands soft as he took the offered fruit and bit into it.

They stood in silence for a few moments, and Harry slowly began to feel awkward. He supposed this had always been awkward, but it was more awkward now. The stillest Harry had ever held still over the last summer was when he was paralyzed with fear, and that's not really being motionless so much as it is… something else. Eventually he looked up and noticed the sun had become brighter, he didn't suppose Luna would join the rest of the school for Lunch, but he had promised Ron.

"Goodbye, Luna." He murmured and left, wondering how long it would be until he stopped feeling so strange about being back at Hogwarts.

As he walked he looked around him, memories washing over him likes giant waves. He looked around and recalled the laughter and the stress, the fights with Malfoy. Oh, Malfoy! Harry stopped walking and put his hand to his chin. Where was Malfoy? He supposed he'd find out soon, when he made it to lunch, which he was late for.

The smell of food made Harry feel ill, he didn't eat much anymore and the thought of eating anything else after that pear was simply too much. If it wasn't for the mental image of Ron's flushed face and the imagined audio of Hermione's voiced worries, he would've skipped lunch all together, but as it was he veered towards the large doors, took a deep breath, and pushed through them.

It went silent.

Hundreds of eyes locked onto Harry and he was a little taken aback by just how many students attended Hogwarts. Instead of being flushed and embarrassed like he once had been, and how anyone else would have been, he tossed his head in slight agitation and strutted forward; using a walk he'd learned from Kanyon. On the inside Harry really didn't want the attention, but it was his duty as Kanyon's significant other to put up a cocky front and be good at it.

"You're late Harry," Hermione whispered as Harry slid in across from her, bumping shoulders with Ron and a rather good-looking chap he recalled to be Oliver Wood.

"Sorry, I, um, ran into Luna while I was on a walk and got held up…" he shrugged and stared at the plates and plates of food he could never dream to consume. "Geez, what's everyone looking at?" He snapped and reached for a slice of warm bread.

Noise rose once more in the Great Hall as people turned away from Harry and back to their mid-day meal. Harry nibbled at his bread, which he had to admit was delicious, and occasionally joined in the conversations around him. He managed to fall into a nearly comfortable state with his fellow Gryffindors by the near end of lunch. Harry found that he still loved Quidditch, still hated Snape and his Slytherines, and that nothing much had changed.

"So, Harry, how was your summer?" Oliver Wood inquired and turned to face Harry, who smirked at the boy without meaning to.

"Oh, it was fine. A blast." He grinned and missed Ron's and Hermione's slightly shocked expressions; never had those words been used to describe Harry's summer. "And yours?"

"Oh, um, it was okay; same old, same old. What was so great about your summer?" Oliver asked and blushed under the bold glare of Harry's smile.

"Well, I met some new people," he confessed and this time acknowledged Ron and Hermione's expressions. "They're pretty awesome, actually. Nearly family." He nodded and bit into a second slice of bread.

"Oh? And what are they like?" Hermione asked curiously.

"'_Nearly family_'?" Ron demanded. "Me and Hermione," he gestured at himself as well as her. "_We_ are you 'nearly family' friends!"

"Now, Ron." Hermione scolded with a tight smile. "So, Harry, what are they like?"

Harry's face became noticeably brighter at the opening to rave about his new crowd. "Well, there's Joey," he lifted one finger, "Gwennie," he lifted another, "and Kanyon." He lifted a third finger. "Joey swears a lot but he's a smashing pal; always has your back." Harry nodded, recalling the many times Joey had swooped in to rescue Harry from something awful. "Then Gwennie (her real name is Gwyneth) is a sweet-heart. She has trouble with relationships, though; can't hold on to a man for very long. And, um, Kanyon is… well," Harry tried not to blush, realizing that he hadn't yet notified Hermione or Ron of his newly opened mind. "Kanyon's the best of nearly everyone I've ever met. I love him." He coughed a little and sipped some pumpkin juice gingerly.

"They sound really interesting." Hermione said earnestly and Harry realized he'd just given Hermione something specific to pry about. "That Kanyon fellow sounds very nice… tell me more about him." She bit into a slice of bread.

"Or, you know, don't." Ron said flatly and rolled his eyes.

Harry gave Ron a grateful, wry grin. "Okay, I won't."

"Oh, no, don't let Ron upset you, Harry." Hermione said and glared and Ron. "I really want to hear about your summer, Harry. I feel so awful that Ron and I weren't there for you."

Harry pretended to ignore her, which was pretty farfetched considering how thought-penetrating and high-pitched her voice was. He laughed at something Wood had said and bit into a warm corn-bread muffin. After a while of listening to a bunch of his 'friends' chatter about the newest flavor of magically flavored Jelly Beans, he grew bored. He didn't remember ever feeling quite so out of place when he was sitting at the Gryffindor table, in fact, it used to be the only place he felt he truly fit in.

Eventually, his eyes began to lazily search through the Great Hall, finding familiar faces and giving unsure waves; being unsure if he was on waving terms with them. Eventually he found the face of Draco Malfoy, who was staring at him from the other end of the Great Hall. Harry couldn't suppress a smirk as he realized that Malfoy had probably been constantly thinking about Harry; as he hadn't been at the welcoming feast. He assessed Malfoy with new eyes and realized that the boy was quite attractive; obviously a narky, ass-kissing, self-absorbed sham of a boy. But definitely attractive; Harry gave a little wink and chocked violently when the blonde reeled back in shock with an expression on his face worthy of a MasterCard commercial.

"Harry, mate! Are you alright?" Ron demanded in a startled voice as he pounded on Harry's back, who was still chocking on corn muffin crumbs.

"Just fine, Ron. Great." He insisted through spluttering laughter. "I, um, just… I'm just so happy to be back." He grinned at his friend, who was giving him a strange look. Harry sat up straight, having been slightly bent due to his chocking laughter. "Sorry."

The people around him slowly went back to their own conversations, some of them still watching Harry out of the corner of their eyes. He chuckled and turned his gaze back to Malfoy, who quickly looked away when Harry looked at him, probably fearing more weirdness. With another soft burst of laughter Harry turned his attention to the faculty table.

There sat the usual teachers, the ones Harry had seen every year since he was eleven. He watched them eat, chattering with one another, and wondered what they were like below the surface. He rested his chin on his elbow, which he placed on the table, and considered Professor Snape. If he was looking at Malfoy through new eyes, he might as well reform his quickly scratched together opinion of the greasy haired potions master.

The man sat rather tall, Harry had never noticed, though his back did curve just a little bit, actually, it was almost as if his many worries and responsibilities were weighing him down. Harry put his hand to his mouth to suppress a giggle; how queer to think of Snape like that! Anyway, he was pale, of course. But pale like the Malfoys, simply pale because of his hobby of slinking around in dark corridors and dank dungeons, his eyes were sad and far off, round like coals, black like coals, and deep-set in his face. All in all, he wasn't such an awful looking guy, but Harry would defiantly like him better minus the grease drenched hair.

"Still a greasy-git," Ron sighed to Harry, noticing the direction his friend's eye pointed in. "I'm not really surprised, though." He scoffed and turned backed to his meal.

Harry wrinkled his nose and gripped at his jeans when he realized he was shaking. And this time he wasn't yearned for a cigarette, he bit his lip and tried to remember all what he packed in his bags. He knew there wouldn't be enough when he packed; just because Harry was on drugs didn't mean he'd become dense. Chances were, if he kept taking as much as he had over the summer, someone would notice. So he'd packed a little, knowing if he quit cold turkey he'd go crazy, but if he only took a little until he didn't need it anymore… well, it was better than going crazy.

"I'm done. Goo'bye." He said ubruptly and stood up so quickly the table shook a little, he didn't look back at his shocked class mates as he slunk across the Great Hall. He did, however, spare a glance for Malfoy, who didn't look away this time. He stopped for a moment and smirked as he mouthed; "See you later," and blew a little kiss, just for him.

**

Draco Malfoy did an automatic sweep of the Great Hall as he seated himself next to Blaise Zabini and some third year who hoped to ride his coat-tails. Ha, didn't he wish. Malfoy frowned when he saw no Harry. He'd looked for him at the Welcoming Feast, and breakfast that morning. Malfoy's frown deepened when he couldn't come up with a reason for the boy being gone. He grunted and began piling food on his plate as he listened to Pansy blab about something inane.

His eyes began to wonder eventually, as one could only even pretend convincingly to listen to Pansy for a small amount of time. Slowly he searched the Gryffindor table again, until he found a head of red hair and a huge mane of bushy brown tangled. Potter should be seating along with the Weasel and Mudblood. Draco squinted a little bit, and then widened in shock. Could that be Potter?!

Between the Weasel and the Gryffindor's Quidditch captain, sat a skinny, tall boy with a mop of unruly, dark hair. Draco didn't believe that was Potter, at least, not until he saw the boy's eyes. That shade of green was a shade that only belonged to Potter. Draco furrowed his brow as he studied the boy more carefully. He wasn't awful looking; he wasn't great looking, either. He looked like trouble, Draco chuckled under his breath; Potter looked like trouble! What was the world coming to? He bit at his lip as he watched Potter nibble at a single piece of bread and chatter animatedly, a far off look of deep affection in his eyes.

Ah, and then, moments later, Draco found himself staring right into Potter's evergreen eyes. They shown mischievously and just behind that glint, there was something that make Draco sick with various emotions. But, before he had time to name the names of all those emotions, a smirk sprang to Potter's generously shaped lips and one eye closed in a universally recognized form of flirtation. Draco reeled back in automatic confusion, horror and shock. And then he glowered when Potter's laughter floated over the noise of the Great Hall and into his ears.

_Damn Potter,_ Malfoy thought as he stared at the boy from the corner of his eyes. _Tch, I guess he is sort of good looking._ He admitted to himself as the boy chocked on corn bread. _What's he doing now? _He wondered when he noticed the Golden Boy staring up at Snape with the same mischievous glint in his green eyes.

Harry seemed to decide something as he looked away from Snape and his face went completely blank. The change gave Draco chills and he looked on, slowly falling in love with mystery. The dark-haired boy slammed away from the table so that the plates rattled and mumbled something and he slunk away quickly, pausing to look back at Draco (Which gave him a different sort of chills.) and mouth a teasing promise and then blow a kiss gracefully before he tripped out of the hall.

**

Harry muttered the password at the Fat Lady and ignored her grumbling as he darted through the empty common room and up the stairs to his dormitory, which was blissfully silent. It took him just a few moments to find what he needed. He hardly felt the pain as he slid the needle into the crook of his arm and very carefully injected the drug. When he'd emptied the needle of its contents, he removed it from his arm carefully and threw it in the trash, rubbing at his arm in self-loathing just before his head exploded in pleasure and he simply fell back on the soft, soft bed provided by his school.

Harry hadn't been doing meth for very long, when he'd first started hanging out with Gwennie and the rest of those guys; he'd been very adamant about what drugs he would and wouldn't do. Methamphetamine had been in the second category, along with a few others, but he'd eventually given in. It didn't take long for him to become addicted, and the physical effects hadn't hit him nearly as bad as they had other people. He'd been spared the awful sores and disgusting rashes, but only because he had experienced friends, and even then he lost weight rapidly, and he often became ill during the time the drug was active in his system.

But that was the furthest thing from Harry's mind as he lay there, waiting until the drugs took him over completely. And it wasn't long before sweat began spotting his forehead, a smile spread across his face, an edgy, sporadic smile, and his pupils filled his irises, which became flooded with veins of red. But what did that matter? He felt great.

Harry laughed at himself and shifted carefully, not wanting nausea to set it, he moved from his bed heavily and made his way to the door, unconcerned with anything that didn't involve the pleasure ricocheting through his nerves.


	4. Anemone: Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I am not making money off of this, nor do I own any share of the Harry Potter franchise.

Warnings: Illegal Drug Use, Angst, Possible OOC, Hermione Bashing, Ron Bashing, Implied Same-Sex Relationships,

Author's Note: Its been a while since I've even thought about this series, but this morning I thought 'Ah, what the hell…' and decided to do a bit of work on. I ended up reading the Prologue and the chapters prior to this one and I'm a little disappointed; the series is sort of cheesy and unoriginal… :|

Chapter Three

**

Hermione stared closely at Harry as he shifted in his seat, again. It was only their first class of the day and he was already becoming antsy. She frowned in concern for her friend and nibbled at the feathered tip of her quill, completely ignoring everything Professor Binns was rattling about. Harry was leaning over his rolls of parchment, his quill moving quickly across the page, but she was positive he wasn't making notes.

"Ron," she whispered softly, not taking her eyes from Harry. "What do you suppose is wrong with Harry?"

The red-head groaned, "Didn't we decide he was just frustrated with us? I thought we had a plan." He slumped; his eyes trailed Harry's movements, too.

"Ron, don't you even pretend to be so dense. Harry is… he's completely different." She muttered and watched as Harry's elbow jerked back violently, seemingly on its own. "I'm worried." She said and wrinkled her eyebrows.

"Of course you're worried, Hermione." Ron sighed. "You're always worried about something. Be it House Elves or Harry or the essay that's due on Monday." He said angrily and watched a vein in Harry's neck jump violently under his skin.

"This is not about me." Hermione said flatly and pointed at Harry's back. "It's about our friend who _needs us_."

"Hermione, for bloody hell's sake—"

**

Draco rolled his eyes as he listened to the Mudblood argue with the Weasel over Potter's well-being. At first it had been interesting; as Draco had committed himself to finding out everything about this new Potter and what had caused the change, but his main source of information was the bickering twits who called themselves Potter's 'friends'. That was a joke if Draco had ever heard one; Hermione seemed to be no more than a worrying bother and Ron was an uncaring git.

_I wonder what he's doing…_ Draco thought as he stared at the tip of Harry's quill, which moved across the page spastically. _It doesn't look like writing._ _Maybe he's… oh, he's drawing. _Draco realized as Potter leaned to the side and revealed that a good foot of his parchment was being turned into a portrait of sorts. _Well, then, what's he drawing? _He pressed and rested his chin in the palm of his hand, trying to keep his face from betraying his attentiveness to the boy.

The class period ended too soon and Draco was unable to muse on it further, as he had Charms next and it seemed as though Potter and the Weasel had Divination. Draco sighed and allowed himself to be carried off by the group of people who surrounded him and insisted on speaking to him in high tones. But even as he was jostled through the halls his mind was floating around Potter. Potter who was different now, Potter who obviously had a secret, Potter who was dashing and dangerous.

Draco smiled to himself as he was seated, ah, that Potter.

**

Harry frowned deeply as he hovered over his art work. He'd been back in the Common Room for an hour and had immediately begun work on it. He considered himself a decent artist, but that was probably one of his best pieces. He'd begun drawing over the summer; he had been encouraged by Kanyon when the adolescent had laid eyes on his soon-to-be-boy-friend's doodles.

"Harry, are you just going to doodle away the afternoon? You have near as much homework as I do." Hermione said and leaned to the right, trying to see what exactly Harry was working on. "What are you drawing, anyway?"

Harry's frown deepened and he rolled up the parchment briskly and then pulled a book in front of him with a thump and without a word. He ignored Hermione's surprised look as he sped through his work, having done a bit of extra work over the summertime. It didn't take long for Harry to finish up, the homework was mostly a review of what they'd covered the previous year. Thought Harry figured Hermione wouldn't believe he was done, so he pulled out a few sheets of normal paper and a fresh quill.

_Dear Kanyon,_

Harry wrinkled his nose and crumpled the paper.

_Hi Kanyon, _

_How have you been? I've been alright, I guess. This place got pretty awful over the summer; I remember when this used to be the only place where I felt like home, now I feel like I'm some freak. Everyone looks at me like I am. My old friends (I talked about them a few times; Hermione and Ron?) got pretty lame. Hermione's always riding me about schoolwork and eating right and blah-blah-blah. Ron is just a git. _

_Classes are pretty dull. So far we're just reviewing the shit we covered last year, so it's pointless. I've been working on a portrait during classes though. It's turning out just how I wanted it to. I'll snap a picture and mail it to you when I'm done, if you'd like._

_Anyway, I have a few other letters to write, and then I'm gonna ditch my 'friends' and head out for a smoke. _

_Write back soon,_

_Yours Truly, Anemone. _

Harry quickly folded the paper and tucked it into an envelope; he drew his tongue along the edge of the flap carefully and tore back with a curse when the sharp paper bit into his tongue. He frowned and wrote _Kanyon _on the front in beautiful, elegant script before he pulled out another sheet of paper and began a letter to Gwennie.

_Hello Gwennie,_

_How've you been? I've missed you tons so far; I hate not being able to see you guys. I didn't think I'd miss you all this much! Are you missing me just as much?_

_I just finished writing Kanyon, it was a pretty short letter and I feel like a left a bunch out. I told him about classes (boring.) and about Hermione and Ron (gits.) and then everything just left my mind. I wonder if he'll forget about me? Think I'll forget about him?_

_Anyway, I wanted to tell you that, so far, I've only shot up once (whoo!) but I've gone through a pack and a half of smokes, so could you send some more? _

_Also, I've got to fill you in on all the drop-dead-gorgeous guys who go here. (Don't tell Kanyon, though!!) First of all; there's this older guy called Oliver Wood; he's way cute. He's a total tight ass, though. Then there's Blaise Zabini who is defiantly a hottie; he's kind of a prick, though. And, someone who I could rant about for hours, Draco Malfoy. Gwennie, he is sex on legs. This guy has got the slickest blond hair, the palest, most flawless skin and the most… striking grey eyes I've ever seen. _

_Anyway, remember: more smokes, write back soon, and tell everyone I love them. (Give Kanyon a kiss more me; slip him some tongue!)_

_Lots and lots of love;_

_Anemone._

Harry packed the letter away and quickly wrote the few more he felt obliged to write. He sealed them all up and set them neatly in his messenger bag. He leaned back and frowned at the ceiling; he couldn't take much more of this dull, boring lifestyle.

"What time is it?" He demanded from Hermione lazily.

"Nearly half past five o'clock." She responded. "Why? Are you hungry? I've got some nutrient bars up in my dorms if you'd like me to run and grab them." As she said this she eyed his bone thin body with a knot between her eyebrows.

"No, I was just wondering." He slipped away from the table and gathered his bag before heading out of the dorms. He figured there ought to be a few more hours of sunlight; his intentions were to sit by the Lake and enjoy the Giant Squid's company while he drew.

**

Draco Malfoy watched as Harry slipped from his dorms and gracefully flitted up and down staircases. Draco didn't think a thing of his behavior as he slid through the shadows in wake of the scarred teenager. He watched as Harry dragged his fingers lightly across the stones that made up the walls; his fingers hopping lightly from one to the next, like he was yearning for touch. Draco smirked and moved a little faster, getting a little closer to the boy.

He watched with interest when Harry stopped and looked around, he stood in front of the Lake and looked up at the nearly setting sun was a misty look in his eyes. Then the boy did something that rather shocked Draco, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small, flimsy box, he didn't take his eyes from the sky as he tapped his forefinger against the bottom of the box until a thin, white stick poked its way out of the box. Draco watched as The Boy Who Lived sat down, made himself comfortable, and then lit up a cigarette.

"Well, there's a site." Draco drawled as he paced forward, his steps slow and measured until he came to stop at Harry's side. "The Savior smoking a Muggle cancer stick? I'm sure that Rita Skeeter woman would love a tidbit like that, don't you think, Harr-Potter?" Draco drawled and caught himself before he actually called Harry 'Harry'.

The dark haired boy snorted and then looked up at Draco, the Slytherine was taken aback by the boys sun tanned skin and the reflection of the world within those evergreen eyes, his lips formed the word 'wow' and he fought back a blush and then turned his head away in embarrassment.

"Yes, Draco Malfoy, I'm aware that I'm gorgeous," Harry chuckled, "now sit down and stop being such a tight-ass." He snorted again at Draco's stricken expression but smiled when the blonde eased himself down at Harry's side, a look of suspicion played across his features. "Oh, and feel free to call me Harry, I have a feeling I'll be seeing a lot of you."

Draco frowned and watched as Harry held the cigarette between his lips and fumbled again with the package and then held a similar stick out to Draco, who took it. "And why is that?" Draco asked slowly as he examined the stick and then let it rest between his lips in the same fashion Potter was.

"Because I'm finding that Hogwarts is not at all what I remember it to be, quite a bore, actually." He lit Draco cigarette for him and smiled as he drew back, "and you're not at all boring, did you know that?"

Draco shook his head slowly and took a deep breath of the cigarette; oh it was foul! He gave it a disgusted look and then shrugged and popped it back into his mouth. "I've been trying to tell you just that for the past few years," Draco admitted slowly and looked as Harry's perfect mouth twisted down in a grimace.

"I suppose you have, haven't you?" He rubbed his shortened cigarette into the ground and drew his knees to his chest. "Well then, have we reached an agreement?" He held out a barely steady hand to Draco.

"An agreement?"

"An agreement to liven up each other's lives?" Harry smirked in a way that Draco was slowly beginning to love.

"Well then, we have in fact reached an agreement." The pale boy took Harry's hand and shook it once and then drew back and watched as Harry's smirked widened.

Harry leaned in slowly and watched as Draco took on a rather panicked expression as Harry's lips descended upon Malfoy's. The kiss was slow and warm and Draco lost his breath to Harry as the boy smiled into it and drew back before Draco could return the small confections. "Sealed with a kiss." Harry said and then stood. "Hermione will blow if I miss dinner. Would you care to join me? Maybe stirring up all of Hogwarts would add for a little extra fun?"

Draco smiled eagerly and bounced up, surprised at his behavior. But he had; after all, always wanted to be Harry's friend. He'd always wanted to be in the spotlight when it came to Harry. He wanted Harry to look at him the way Harry looked when he was in the Great Hall, before the green-eyed boy had winked. And now, now Draco was striding next to Harry, his shoulders brushing the dark-haired boy's, his fingers close enough to be grasped by Harry's.

**

"Where's Harry gone to?" Hermione grouched as she bit into a roll and stared towards the door, her eyes gliding back to watch Ron every once in a while. "The only think I've seen him eat since he got here is a single slice of bread, and a corn bread muffin." Her bushy eyebrows collapsed in on one another.

"You've been keeping an exact account of what he eats?" Ron asked as he rolled his eyes and shoveled food into his mouth.

"Of course I have, Ron. We've already discussed how skinny he is." She snorted.

Oliver Wood, who had taken to saving Harry a seat beside him, leaned over to Hermione and said, "I don't know. Well, I mean, he is awful skinny, but he pulls it off smashingly." He said with a light blush.

Ron lifted an eyebrow and laughed at the expense of Wood. "You're a great Quidditch player, Wood, don't get me wrong. But Harry is not gay." He snorted and shook his head, still chuckling.

Oliver's eyebrows shot up. "You know, Ron, I always thought that you and Harry were really good friends, but I don't think you really know him at all." He rested his chin on his hand and smiled lazily.

Ron's face colored to match his hair and he rose loudly from his seat, his knees banging on the table edges and he pointed a finger at Wood. "You shut up! I have always been there for Harry, and you're the one who doesn't know anything about him! You think just because you've got the hots for him you know everything about him? Well, you don't, fagot!"

"Ron Weasley!" Hermione gasped.

"Ron, if you know so much about Harry not being gay and what-not, then can you explain why he just walked in with Malfoy, practically holding hands?" Wood replied, his ears bright red in anger.

Ron turned and watched as the two, who were indeed Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, and yes, their hands were oddly close, almost cupping one another, sauntered over to the Slytherine table and, with a flick of Malfoy's hand, made room for the both of them.

Both Ron and Hermione sputtered as Harry slid in next to Draco and smiled both at them, and at the Slytherines who greeted him suspiciously. Harry gave a little wave, and then it was as if he had never seen them in his life.


	5. Anemone: Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I am not making money off this, nor do I own any share of the Harry Potter franchise.

Warnings: Implied Same-sex relationships, character bashing, possible OOC-ness, heavily implied rape, drug-use

Author's note: Alright, after reading the series and this chapter, I cannot stop giggling. I'm very happy that people are enjoying this series, but it's almost a parody. Anyway, I'm still not sure if it's going to be Draco/Harry or Snape/Harry, so please review your preference and I'll see what I can do! :)

Chapter Four

**

Harry glided into the Great Hall, loving the natural air of power that hung around Draco, he wasn't sure when he'd suddenly become attracted to power, to excitement, and to causing trouble, but somewhere between nearly committing suicide, being abused by his uncle and becoming addicted to drugs, it had simply happened. In the muggle world, Kanyon, Gwennie, and Joey were the top dogs, or rather, they had connection with the Top Dogs and that ranked them pretty high up there, so Harry, by association…

"Your friends are gaping." Draco chuckled as he motioned for the group of Slytherins to make room for himself as well as Harry. "The Weasel looks like he might just pop." Draco had taken on a very self-assured personality sometime after he'd jumped up and followed Harry like a puppy. Shortly after admitting to himself that he wanted to be the Main Character in Harry's eyes, he decided that he wanted to make Harry pay for refusing him for this long. Draco was going to make Harry want him, Draco was going to make Harry _need _him.

"It looks as if he's had a spat with Wood." Harry said lightly as he locked eyes with Ron, and then Hermione, finding he was quite comfortable at the Slytherin table. "I suppose I'll be hearing all about it in the morning." He smirked and then gave a small wave to Hermione and Ron before turning his attention to the Slytherins who were looking at him with suspicious eyes.

Harry narrowed his eyes as he examined the Slytherins right back, he wasn't quite sure what to say to break the ice. He gave a flicker of a frown, the most of a frown Draco had seen grace the boy's lips since the school year had started, and then turned his lips up at the corners and gave a honey slow smile. "Feel free to call me Harry." He said and reached for a Cinnamon Bun, oh! How he loved sweets. "I think I'm going to be here an awful lot from now on."

The Great Hall had gone somewhat silent but something in Harry's eyes made the Slytherins feel at ease, perhaps it was the power-hungry, connection-establishing, sexily-bored look that gleamed in his eyes, but none the less, conversation resumed and introductions were made. Harry soon found himself squished between Pansy Parkinson, a girl he'd never liked and doubted he would ever like, and Draco Malfoy, whose body was quite warm and quite welcome at such an angle. He was chatting with Blaise Zabini, a fellow he found quite charming and two chaps by the names of Adrian Pucey and Marcus Flint. He found Flint quite appalling, and Pucey was a decent fellow but looked a little uncomfortable talking with Harry.

"So, Harry, what's with the sudden change in seating arrangements?" Blaise asked, his voice silky and surprisingly sweet after he'd realized Harry meant no harm.

Harry shrugged, and let his head loll to the side, give a smirk at just an angle he knew would make him look dashing, but effortlessly. "Well, Draco was stalking me, and so I did was all decent Stalkees ought to do and offered him a smoke. We got to talking and I decided he was not a bore, unlike my pals," the word tasted bitter in his mouth, "over there. So I invited myself along and he didn't seem to mind, and here we are."

Blaise laughed lightly and looked to Draco who scowled at Harry playfully, feeling a child who finally got the present they'd been wanting for three Christmases prior. "I wasn't stalking you! I was tailing you." He amended. "And you left out the part where you threw me down on the grass and ravaged me." He grinned.

"Ravaged?" Pansy's voice shot through the air like a horribly aimed arrow, deadly none the less, however. "Harry ravaged you, Draco? Oh, I really doubt he'd do something like that!"

Harry grinned. "I would hardly call it _ravaging_, Draco, though if you'd like, we could amend that now." He raised an eyebrow and then laughed along with the rest of the Slytherin table who were listening, if not actively participating.

"Well then, Harry," Daphne Greengrass called out, "do enlighten us of what really happened!"

Harry grinned and leaned forward, making sure to do it in such a way that he squeezed himself closer to Draco, if that was at all possible. "It was only an innocent little kiss; to seal a deal." He smiled broadly.

"What sort of deal?" Many people echoed but the voices faded out for Draco as he watched Harry out of the corner o f his eye.

He called that an innocent kiss? I mean, sure, Harry hadn't _ravaged _Draco (though Draco really wouldn't have minded) but the boy certainly hadn't delivered a sweetly coated peck to Draco's cheek. _That _would have been an innocent kiss. The kiss Harry gave him was sweet and bitter like chocolate, it was long, but not long enough, and, of all things, it was not innocent. At one point, Draco could have sworn that Harry's tongue was gliding across his bottom lip…

"Draco!" Pansy hollered and the blonde turned his dreamy eyes toward his pug faced friend, oh lord how he hated her.

"Yes, Pansy?" He asked sadly and caught Harry's amused eyes.

"You _kissed Harry Potter_." She informed him loudly and the noise in the Great Hall fell abruptly.

**

Hermione's eyebrows were closed in tightly together and her bottom lip quivered as though she might cry or shout. Her cheeks were red and puffed out slightly, like she was holding something in and thinking of a completely different matter all at once. She was staring out across the expanse of the Great Hall, watching as her best friend made nice with the bastards who had made their lives hell since they'd arrived at Hogwarts. What did those Slytherins have that she didn't? Charm? Wit? She narrowed her eyes as Harry scooted ever closer to Malfoy and all but snuggled against him. Perhaps it was something else she didn't have.

"What the hell does he think he's doing?" Ron hissed as he watched them, his forkful of food hovered just in front of his lips. "Has he lost his mind? Doesn't he remember all of the awful things Malfoy and his goons have done to, not just him! But _us _as well?"

Hermione brought her thumb to her lips and began to nibble on it in concentration. "I'm not sure, Ron. I think it has something do with this passing summer… I mean, you said he's been acting strange. It's almost like he's a completely different person."

Ron nodded thoughtfully, surprisingly setting aside his anger for once and trying to think straight for the well-being of his friends. He opened his mouth but was cut off when Pansy Parkinson, shrieked loudly. "You _kissed Harry Potter_?" Her voice floated across the expanse of the Great Hall and nearly everyone shut up, the faculty included.

"_Who _kissed Harry Potter?" Oliver Wood, who had apparently become interested in the Harry, said and sat straighter, trying to find who Parkinson was shrieking at.

"Wood, cool it, you don't have a chance." Ron mumbled and craned his neck and, to his horror, found Parkinson staring at Draco Malfoy, of all people.

The Great Hall's silence got thicker and then a daring Ravenclaw boy shouted. "Wait… _Draco Malfoy _kissed _Harry Potter_?"

**

Harry smiled broadly at sudden commotion, or rather, lack thereof, this is exactly what he had in mind. Well, not exactly, but quite nearly. Just as long as it got people talking and gave him something to do, it was what he wished for. Back home, back with his friends, they'd always been the talk of the town. At first it had bothered him, but that feeling disappeared pretty quickly, now he was addicted to the feeling of spotlight.

Draco blushed pleasantly and leaned into Harry and smirked. "Actually," he said in a loud voice, not yelling, but his voice still carrying across the expanse of the Great Hall, "Harry Potter kissed Draco Malfoy." He smiled widely at the sudden outbreak of noise in which all eyes were on the contradictory 'couple'.

"If I didn't know any better, Harry, I would say you were enjoying all this." Blaise said with a small smile as he leaned forward and plucked a soft scone from a basket. "I never figured you for the sort o guy who loves to be in the spotlight." He said and buttered the scone carefully.

Draco turned away from the many conversations he'd been eavesdropping in on and gave Blaise a confused look. "Have you not noticed that everything always centers around him?" He asked slowly, not angrily, but slowly.

Blaise shot him a look and said, "Of course I've noticed. It's hard not to. But that's not what I was saying; I was saying that he didn't seem like the sort to _enjoy _all of that attention."

Draco's eyebrows shot up at this. "How can you _not _enjoy attention?" Draco asked rhetorically. He went silent for a moment and quickly reviewed his memories of Harry's attitude, back when he'd been 'Potter'. He narrowed his eyes on Harry and asked, "You didn't like all that attention, did you?" He didn't wait for an answer before he asked, "But you do now?"

Harry pretended that he was actually paying attention to what Pansy was saying, and Draco didn't push the matter. He did, however, stare out of the corner of his eye at the brown haired boy. Now that he thought about it, he wouldn't put it past Harry and his friends to conjure up something like this. He winced at the idea that this new Harry was simply an actor.

**

Later that night, after Harry had dished it out with Hermione and Ron and finally managed his way up to his dorm room and his oh-so comfortable bed, he lay on his back, staring up at the top of his canopy. He narrowed his eyes at the offense fabric and considered what Draco had said. No, Harry hadn't been fond of any sort of attention until recently, but whose business was that? Harry frowned deeply and turned onto his side. Only his, he thought before he drifted off to sleep.

_Harry did his best to lay completely still, focusing on keeping his tears brimming at his eyes and not on his cheeks, he didn't look up, but he couldn't make himself close his eyes. He tried to ignore the pain of being violated in such an intimate way, to be taken complete advantage of, the pain of being so completely helpless and pathetic. He turned away from the unwanted trail of kisses and kept his legs clamped shut tightly._

"_Don't act like you don't want it." The person above him spoke breathlessly and planted a foul smelling kiss on Harry's neck, smirking against Harry's dark skin as he did so. "But if you really want to be stubborn, I'll allow you that weather you want it or not, I'm going to give it to you." _

_Harry didn't bother to hold in his tears this time as the man above him growled in what was meant to be a seductive manner and ran his disgusting hands up and down Harry's chest, sliding them beneath the thin t-shirt he had borrowed from a friend. He squirmed under the man's touch and cried out, knowing no one would hear him over the loud thrum of the music. He bit down hard on his lip, until it bled, as the man leeched at Harry's neck while simultaneously slid his hands lower on Harry's person._

"_Please… please…" Harry cried into the carpet of the floor, where he'd turned if face in effort to ignore the sickening sight of the man's eyes devouring him._

"_Please?" The man smirked against Harry's now bare abdomen. "That's right…" he murmured as he stripped Harry of his jeans, "beg for it." _

**

Harry's eyes flew wide open and he found that his chest was shaking with sobs, heaving in and out as he tried to calm himself, tried to forget what had happened. But soon he just let the tears flow, staring up at the canopy, green eyes stark against the dark veil of night that filled the room. It wasn't as though he'd forgotten completely about it; he knew what it had done to him. That man… the man who had… Harry chocked on another sob and covered his mouth in anger, wishing he was quieter. It was all his fault that Harry was like this. So cold and brash and so different than the boy who had spent his best years in the very bed Harry lay in now, finding it to be the only good thing about this school.

Head whirling with thoughts and ideas, his mind's eye recounting all the awful things he'd said and done and how Harry contrasted _Harry: The Golden-Boy. _Harry had never wanted to turn into this… he wanted to change and for everything to go back to the way it was… he wanted so badly to…

"Oh, fuck." Harry said aloud, and rolled from the middle of the bed to the left side, he reached out from the canopy that kept him out of sight and fumbled for the nightstand draw handle. Inside his long fingers scrambled in blind effort until they closed around a small case. Harry pulled that through the sheets, shut the drawer, and shot up the only thing that would stop him from being miserable.

**

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the lack of updating recently, and for how short this chapter is. I had a very difficult time deciding rather or not to continue this series for personal reasons. I promise that I'll get cracking on the Fifth Chapter as soon as I can!!


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